


Roommates (113 followers reward)

by coldphoenix



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 21:51:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11518203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldphoenix/pseuds/coldphoenix
Summary: Frieza and Piccolo become roommates for a day. They don't get along...





	Roommates (113 followers reward)

**Author's Note:**

> Another short request to celebrate my tumblr blog getting 113 followers. Well obviously I had to let my 113th follower pick one XD So this is a request for @real-piccolo-jr. They asked for Piccolo and Frieza to be roommates for a day, and something quirky happens… well I only had a 300 word limit (which I… massively exceeded, again lol) so I couldn’t come up with anything too creative, but I hope this is okay. I figured they would argue a lot and most of it would be petty lol.

Frieza entered the lounge, and sneered in disgust at what he saw. A dirty place, dirty cutlery, dirty wine glasses… not to mention that it was dusty in here.  
“This place is filthy.” Frieza snarled, glaring at his new roommate, Piccolo. “When are you going to clean?”  
“Me?” Piccolo answered back. “Why should I have to do it? Why don’t you?”  
“Tch. Don’t be ridiculous.” Frieza snorted. “I’m Emperor Frieza. Emperor Frieza doesn’t clean. He hires people to clean for him.”  
“Yeah well, ‘Emperor’… you’re not the only one with a decent social status.” Piccolo replied. “I’m technically the prince of demons.”  
“Which means you have absolutely _no_ status in the mortal world.” Frieza retorted. He took a seat, and narrowed his eyes at Piccolo. “Do it.”  
“No – why should I?” Piccolo argued. “This is your mess! I’m not about to clean up after you – I am **not** your slave!”  
“Are you honestly telling me you’re happy living in this environment?” Frieza demanded. “On top of this place only having _two_ bedrooms and one bathroom?” He folded his arms, huffing in disgust. “This must be what it feels like to live in poverty…”  
“I doubt that very much.” Piccolo said flatly, repulsed by how spoilt and ignorance Frieza was. What was wrong with the guy? “But yeah, I’m okay with living like this…” He smirked. “Let me remind you that I used to live in the wilderness, so a couple of dirty plates are hardly going to bother me. Actually, I think they’ll get to you much quicker than they get to me.”

Frieza’s body tensed; he was obviously becoming annoyed. How dare this lowlife namekian defy him… and make him live in such a small, dirty place! He deserved better than this. He was Lord Frieza!   
“… Fine.” Frieza huffed, and rose from his seat. “I’m going to make some rice. Would you like some?”

Piccolo flinched, taken aback. That was odd. Why would Frieza offer him anything? Ever? He looked at Frieza sceptically.   
“… What’s the catch?” Piccolo demanded.   
“Oh, you assume there is a catch?”” Frieza snapped. “Do you think so little of me? I am making some for myself anyway, it is absolutely no effort at all to make extra for you and it is polite to ask! It’s what people do when they have had the luxuries of social interaction and a formal education!”   
“Don’t get salty.” Piccolo hissed. Hm. He knew there was a catch. Even if it was no effort for Frieza to make extra, he was the type to not do it anyway just to be a bitch. He was probably trying to guilt trip Piccolo into cleaning up. … Hm. Well, Piccolo wasn’t going to clean anybody’s mess except his own… but he would still let Frieza make the rice anyway. “… Sorry.” Piccolo smiled politely. “Sure. That sounds good. Thanks.”   
“Mm-hm.” Frieza grunted, and left the room.

A few minutes passed by, and while he meditated Piccolo vaguely listene d out for the sound of boiling water coming from the kitchen… but he couldn’t hear anything. Oh, no… Frieza wasn’t cooking the rice _dry_ , was he? Did he even know how to make rice? Dammit! Why were rich people so useless?   
“Frieza!” Piccolo barked, leaping from his seat to dive towards the kitchen. “You’re supposed to add water –”

He stopped, his eyes widening slightly at what he saw. Was that a… an electric rice cooker…?  
“Problem?” Frieza questioned. He was standing beside it, staring at Piccolo with wickedness in his eyes and a tormenting smirk on his lips. The bastard…  
“I don’t like rice made in one of those.” Piccolo grunted. “I told you. It doesn’t taste as good.”   
“Well, that’s simply not true.” Frieza beamed. “It’s almost done. Why don’t you try it?”   
“I’m not eating it.” Piccolo said stubbornly, becoming tense. He really wanted to get out of here… he _hated_ rice cookers.   
“Here.” Frieza noticed that the rice cooker was ready, and he held it out to Piccolo, allowing him to open the lid. “You do the honours.”   
“No!” Piccolo barked, stepping back. “Get that thing away from me.”   
“Why?” Frieza grinned. “You don’t have a phobia of these, do you?”   
“No!” Piccolo uttered shakily, a small blush forming on his cheeks as he tried desperately to hide the fact that he **did** have something against them. It was irrational… “That’s ridiculous! I just don’t like rice that’s been – **Frieza**!” He cried out as Frieza shoved the rice cooker into his arms, and Piccolo instinctively hurled it at the floor. “No!” He roared, suddenly not caring about how ridiculous he looked. He _**hated**_ those things! “Screw you! I don’t want any of your stupid mafuba rice!” He stormed out of the room, embarrassed and enraged, and trying his best to ignore Frieza laughing behind him.


End file.
